


look not to the stars

by AwayLaughing



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brothers, Darkening of Valinor, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Flight of the Noldor, Fluff and Tragedy, Gen, Sibling Bonding, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: Arafinwë, the stars of Alqualondë, and family.Over Írimë’s head he could see the sky – the stars peaking through the gloom of Ungoliant, less obscured than in the south. More so than expected, with the smoke from the ships hanging heavy in the sky. The winds had blown them over quickly, but now they lingered.





	look not to the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohboromir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohboromir/gifts).



 

 

 

The beaches of Alqualondë were beautiful, but not particularly comfortable for sitting on. Despite that, Arafinwë was there, sitting just on the edge of the water, letting it lap at his feet and trying not to cry. It was stupid, he knew, to be upset with his family leaving him here. Stupid because that wasn’t really why he was upset – it was the plan after all and he’d been excited. And then _everyone_ came to say goodbye. Except of _course_ Curufinwë and Ñolofinwë had spent the whole trip here arguing. Írimë and Findis both ignored them – except for when Írimë was egging them on.

 

And no one paid any mind to him, and now they were leaving.

 

The crunch of the jewels in the sand told him someone was approaching, but Arafinwë didn’t look up. It was likely mother, who would just say his brothers were complicated and just because they were louder didn’t mean anyone cared less about him.

 

“Here,” he startled when something was thrust under his nose – by Curufinwë. Not his mother, who generally didn’t thrust things at people. Delicately Arafinwë took it, careful not to crush the delicate looking handle of the...food. “It’s iced cream,” he said, “flavoured with almonds. I thought you would enjoy it.”

 

“Thank you,” Arafinwë said though in truth he was not entirely thankful. Curufinwë nodded, and surprised him by sitting – well plopping honestly – down next to him. “You don’t have to stay with me,” he said.

 

“I know,” Curufinwë said. Arafinwë waited for more – but as usual it did not come. Realizing that if this treat was iced it would probably melt Arafinwë turned to what had been brought. Sure enough it was dripping down the cone shaped holder. “Some sort of hard pastry,” Curufinwë said. “Lalya likes it.”

 

Írimë, in Arafinwë’s experience, liked most things. Or at least appreciated them. She who felt about life the way Curufinwë did inventions. Instead of saying that – _no one likes a know it all, Ara_ _ya_ – he just took a bite.

 

“Hng,” he said, teeth reacting with displeasure. Curufinwë gave that little laugh – half a bark and all mocking. Arafinwë tried not to wince, duck away from the sound.

 

“Sorry,” Curufinwë said, shocking him into looking up. “You lick it,” he didn’t have one of his own to demonstrate on, but Arafinwë wasn’t stupid. No matter what the rest of them thought. So he just did as he was told. It was sweet, and very cold. Slivers of almond, fried he thought, were there.

 

“It’s good,” he said once he got down to the pastry. “Thank you. Curufinwë.”

 

Curufinwë waved off the thanks. “I was poorly behaved on the way here. I apologize.”

 

“No need,” Arafinwë said.

 

“Yes, there is a need,” Curufinwë said. “Or you wouldn’t be hiding on an uncomfortable beach.”

 

“I’m not hiding,” he said, looking over sharply. Curufinwë was always eager to remind him and Ñolofinwë they were _half_ brothers. It felt very true most of the time, but completely true now, Curufinwë all sharp angles and dark hair, snapping grey eyes. Ñolofinwë had the colouring, but had the wider squared off features their mother had.

 

Arafinwë looked like her entirely – he didn’t even get father’s nose where everyone else did.

 

“I just know when I’m not wanted,” he said.

 

Curufinwë made his annoyed one – the one from the back of his throat that usually meant Írimë had poked fun at him and just laughed at his cutting response. “You wouldn’t exist if you weren’t wanted,” he said. “That’s how it works.”

 

 _Mothers don’t die in Valinor, that’s how it works_ , was something Ñolofinwë would say. Arafinwë didn’t really like that he thought it. “Thank you for the iced cream,” he said instead. It was supposed mean go away; Curufinwë never listened unless you straight out said something though and even then he didn’t always do what you asked. Almost never what he was told.

 

“You are welcome, I’m glad you liked it,” Curufinwë said.

 

Time passed. The light of the Trees waned more than it ever seemed to do in Tirion, until the stars shone like he’d rarely seen. The water crept higher, until finally Curufinwë stood. “I will return shortly,” he said. Arafinwë looked up, wondering what for.

 

“Shouldn’t we go in?”

 

“I’ll grab bedrolls,” Curufinwë said. “And show you some of the stars. Anywhere with grass will be safe. Find us a spot.”

 

“...alright,” Arafinwë said not entirely sure he understood what was happening but not willing to argue. “We won’t offend king Olwë?”

 

Curufinwë laughed again. “No, certainly not. We came here when I was young I -” he paused a moment, a common tell meaning the story featured his mother. “It’s how I learned the stars. The sailors here travel by them.”

 

Arafinwë knew that, and said as much, but there wasn’t much point because Curufinwë was already walking away. Not seeing any other option – not if he wanted to learn about the stars tonight, anyway – he turned and made his way toward the grassy dunes in search of a place to place some bedrolls.

 

* * *

 

 

He was woken in the morning by a familiar laugh and a threat of water – and an unfamiliar giggle. Sitting up he found Írimë had tackled Curufinwë, who was so tangled in his blankets he had failed to dislodge her. A few feet away Olwë’s two daughters were watching. The elder had curling white hair, the younger straight silver, and both had their mother’s bright blue-green eyes.

 

“Good morning,” the eldest said. “I am Eärwen, this is Lúnettë,” she said. “We break the fast in a half hour, your sister thought you would like to clean up before hand.”

 

“Thank you,” he said, and started cleaning up his bedroll.

 

Lúnettë, still giggling asked him, “should we help him?”

 

Arafinwë looked over and almost said no – but then again...

 

“Lala, I want to see mother and father before you all leave me here,” he said, trying for joking. She looked up, which allowed Curufinwë to shove her off.

 

“We? I’m staying,” she said.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“Well yes, did you think you’d have to go it alone?” she asked. Curufinwë was smiling slightly.

 

“You knew!”

 

“Of course I knew,” he said. “But we can’t have little Araya going unsurprised, can we?”

 

* * *

 

 

A year later and he didn’t want to go back. Írimë teased him all the way home, mostly about Eärwen. It was a distraction, at least, since he spent most of the trip trying not to blush.

 

Mother cried, when she pulled him into a hug which undid _all_ his hard work. Neither of his brothers were there – Curufinwë and Nerdanel were busy with with Maitimo and Ñolofinwë was off doing whatever it was Ñolofinwë did these days. Arafinwë didn’t know – he’d been gone. Father was here, but he didn’t seem too enthused by Arafinwë’s return, other than wanting the news from Alqualondë.

 

Needless to say, Arafinwë excused himself early that night to hide in his rooms. He lazed about for a while – reading, writing a letters to those in Alqualondë who demanded one. Eventually the light of the mingling started to fade and his eyes started to droop.

 

And then, finally, he looked up.

 

Poking around showed no obvious source – nor a culprit. But Arafinwë knew. It was a welcome home, from Curufinwë himself.

 

He never could do things in half measures, Arafinwë thought looking up. Of course Curufinwë wouldn’t settle for anything less than the stars of Alqualondë.

 

* * *

 

Írimë’s eyes were dry as she looked up at him. “I’m staying, Araya,” she said. “Ñolofinwë needs me.”

 

 _I need you_ , he thought for a moment. _He was walking back into the arms of people they’d betrayed and abandoned. Into Doom. But then, apparently any direction was right for that._

 

“You’ll die,” he said rather than what he meant.

 

“I may, and the Valar may damn you to the Halls for eternity, or bound in the Void,” she said.

 

“No,” he said, “or maybe. But you _will_ die,” he knew it, like it was a song carved into his bones.

 

Understanding flashed in grey eyes, dark brows drawing down. “Oh,” she said. Then she looked north, “is that why you’re turning back?”

 

“No. I don’t know what comes for me,” he said. “But I do know my own heart, and it calls me back to face the Wrath here.” Írimë nodded, and pulled him into a hug, clinging to him.

 

“I love you, little brother,” she said. “I wish you didn’t have to go it alone.”

 

“I am not alone,” he said, “I have your love, and Ñolofinwë’s.”

 

“You do,” Ñolofinwë’s voice said, deep and steady. “And my blessing. I will find Curufinwë, and face Moringotto. You face the Valar, and find our lost peace.”

 

Arafinwë nodded, letting Ñolofinwë join the embrace. Over Írimë’s head he could see the sky – the stars peaking through the gloom of Ungoliant, less obscured than in the south. More so than expected, with the smoke from the ships hanging heavy in the sky. The winds had blown them over quickly, but now they lingered.

 

A reprimand. An omen.

 

A final gift, from Curufinwë, who originally gave his brother the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, thegreatstrongbow!
> 
> I know you said you like angst and Finarfin - so I tried my hand at a classic Finwean scenario. I hope you enjoy it, and have a very excellent Holiday season.


End file.
